Dear Pooh

I haven't stopped laughing since we found my baby sister's journal from her days as a 6-year-old. She only wrote on about 10 pages, unfortunately. I take that back, I would have a hernia right now if she had been a more diligent journal-writer.

The front of the "diary"

Dear Pooh,

Tonight the bizzard stated buy git getting icee a wuel. Jan. 2, 99 Blizzard of 1999.



Oh, we're just getting started.

Dear Pooh,

Today is valentins day I'm pritty icsidid but I'm cinda dicapoitit because I nevr got to do my valintins today. Buy!



That should give you an idea of the Richmond accent, as heard and regurgitated by a 6-year-old.

Dear Pooh,

I am releafed that Elaine is okay. Alex is on our soccer team axsdentlie He kicked the ball into Elaie's face. She got a bloddy nose and I was in goal and I saved the ball with my pinky.



I wonder if Alex really kicked that ball in Elaine's face axsdentlie or not.

Dear Journal,

Rain

Rain is such a funny thing. Too much of it floods, too little of it drought. That's we're going through right now; a drought. Tonight it's powring and it looks as if our coldosack is Lake Michigan. Since its so dark I'm pretty scared.



We lived in a cul-de-sac.

When my parents got home, if I had been wearing black and white I would have looked like a sun-burned penguin. g2g (got to go),

Katie